


Day 4: The Silver Lining

by infinitelymint



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Food Kink, Hashtag working too much, I'm the worst tagger I'm sorry, M/M, Soz about that, Yeah......, don't read this while drinking hot cocoa, let's see, maybe don't go there for dinner if you get the fictional chance, these tags are shit I'm sorry, they defile their kitchen once more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitelymint/pseuds/infinitelymint
Summary: “Although, if I remember correctly,” Harry murmured, the thought coming to him suddenly, ”Food always was a bit of a favourite playmate of yours back during our uni days.”
   “Ah,” Louis reminisced fondly, “I did lick my fair share of cake batter and whipped cream off of you back then, didn’t I? I’d almost forgotten, it’s been so long.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I watched too much Bridget Jones while writing this and had pretty much tried to forget how bad I am at writing smut. But alas. Hope you enjoy the Harry Potter references if nothing else.  
> Thanks a bunch and a billion to [A](https://plaidcardigan.tumblr.com/) for betaing this for me. And for the organisers of this whole thing for their brilliant, hard work.

Harry hadn't exactly been having the best of days. In some ways it had started out well enough. He’d woken at the same time as Louis, the both of them knackered to the bone in a way that only a Tuesday could bring. Some day, Harry intended to write an impassioned journal article about why Tuesday is the toughest day of the week, maybe even a book if he got fired up enough. Like… Monday, go home! It had been nice, though, as always, being able to at least wake up with Louis, see him and say goodbye before Louis had left for work. But that was just about the last nice thing that Harry had experienced. Granted, that was a mean thing to say. After all he’d spent a large portion of the day with their children, and that was always – at least to a little (sometimes very little, admittedly) extent – nice. Regardless, though, the day had been challenging, to say the least.

It was as if their children were genetically predisposed to adopt Harry’s stance on Tuesdays and then, in turn, make his Tuesday even more miserable. Harry supposed he was at fault for it himself in the end, if only he had taught his children to love Tuesdays, maybe he wouldn’t have been stuck with such a miserable brood all day. However, there was little he could do about it now. No matter what, the fact of the matter was that it was ten o’clock at night, Louis still wasn’t home, and Harry was up to his neck in cake batter. Tasty cake batter, granted, but still… cake batter. Not exactly the epitome of skin care.

Actually, Harry was relatively sure there was batter in his hair, too, from the time he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, and, also, he probably had so much cocoa powder up his nose that if he blew it right now, his snot would be dark brown. Gross, sure, but sadly not an exaggeration. Late night baking used to be his forte back when he and Louis were in uni and didn’t have classes until noon the next day. Baking chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the night had been a speciality of his. He was a little less enthused about it now that he had to get up again at half past six the coming morning, though.

 _Bloody_ bake sale.

It wasn’t that he had forgotten. He really hadn’t. Harry didn’t forget that kind of thing. He’d been excited about trying out a new chocolate cupcake recipe ever since he was asked to contribute to the bake sale that was being held to raise funds for the local library. That kind of thing had always been right down Harry’s alley. But, alas, he’d ended up spending most of his morning writing on his newest novel because he had long since learned that when inspiration struck, he needed to write _ASAP_. His muse was a fickle friend, after all, and not one to be kept waiting for long. If he had a dollar for every great idea he’d managed to forget before he could scribble it down on paper, he’d be the newest Richie Rich. Or maybe, like, the newest J.K. Rowling because one never knew if any of the forgotten ideas might have been the next Harry Potter.

At any rate, the unplanned length of his writing session had offset Harry’s entire day. He hadn’t been able to bake the cupcakes before he’d had to pick up the kids in the early afternoon, and his desire to turn the baking session into a fun filled family activity certainly hadn’t worked out as hoped. Rather it had ended up with George covered in flour, the discovery that they had run out of eggs, and an Isabelle who was none too happy that she couldn’t just sit and eat cupcakes (she was so like Louis in that regard).

Naturally the cupcakes still needed to be made, though, and Harry absolutely refused to have Louis just pick some up on the way home from the nearest bakery. So of course that meant that he’d ended up herding both children to the store with him to pick up eggs, and other items that had quickly become necessary to soothe the sky-high tension level in their tiny household. (Luckily, there was nothing some cocoa and whipped cream couldn’t fix in the Tomlinson-Styles household).

It was, however, perhaps not the most well-thought plan. As it happened, two over-tired children, a knackered dad and rush-hour shopping time equated to some very bad results. By the time Harry had finally battled his way home; his arms ladled in equal parts with kids and groceries, Isabelle had thrown a hissy fit both in the store and on the journey home, and George had spent ten minutes inconsolably crying in the fruits and vegetables section before he somewhat calmed down. After that, though, he had clung something desperately to Harry, and refused to be put into the cart.

Harry’s horrific Tuesday baking disaster hadn’t stopped there, though. When they’d finally returned home and Harry had plied them both full with hot cocoa and whipped cream and placed them in front of the television (not his proudest parenting moment, but desperate times and all that…), the baking still did not go smoothly. Though he had all the ingredients, a few too many minutes spent engulfed in _The Lion King_ with the kids (Timon and Pumba never failed to crack him up, and he took pride in the fact his children had at least taken a liking to _that,_ since baking apparently didn’t hold their interests at all), had resulted in cupcakes that were more char than chocolate, a kitchen filled with smoke and a fire alarm that had set George off into hysteria once more.

To say that he was exhausted would be quite the understatement. Harry had  very nearly wept when Louis called to tell him that something urgent had come up and that he would be even later arriving home than usual. The best way to counteract the tiredness, though, Harry had discovered, was to stare intently at the cupcakes in the oven, as a constant reminder to himself of how little sleep he’d get if he fucked this batch up too.

Harry was so intensely fixated on the cupcakes slowly rising in the oven, that he failed to hear both the front door open and Louis call out in greeting. In fact, Harry didn’t notice anything until a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, startling him half to death until he recognised the feel of the body touching his. He could point out Louis in a crowd even if he were deprived of all his senses, and he’d told him as such many times, though the other man had never seemed to believe him. This, though, Harry thought, was the proof.

“Hi babe,” Louis said, burying his face in Harry’s neck from behind, breathing in deeply as though it gave him a form of sustenance he had long craved. Who knew, maybe it did. Harry could certainly sympathise if so, he wouldn’t mind a good whiff of Louis right about now either.

“Hi,” sighed Harry, utterly exhausted. He’d have said more if he could, but, really, he was far too tired and Louis’ shoulder was much too comfortable as a perch to lean his head on. For the first time in the ten minutes since he set the cupcakes in the oven, Harry dared to close his eyes. “Tell me if they burn,” he said through a big yawn.

“Tough day?” Louis asked, one hand coming down to interlace their fingers together while the other tightened its grip around Harry’s middle, pulling him closer.

“The worst,” Harry nodded, too drained to even elaborate.

“Sorry I’m home so late, love,” Louis apologised, sounding genuinely upset.

“It’s okay,” said Harry, pulling his head from Louis’ shoulder and turning around to face him. “Don’t worry about it, darling. I understand. It was just one of those days where everything went wrong, you know? Nothing to be done about it. I’ll just be glad to go straight to bed as soon as these cupcakes are done. I’ll leave them to cool and decorate them in the morning or something.”

“Hmm,” Louis hummed, leaning down to kiss Harry’s lips gently. “Is there anything I can do to improve your day a little, babe? At least make it end on a good note?”

“I…”  Harry started, before breaking off into a sigh as both affection and guilt churned in his stomach. “Honestly, Lou, babe, I’m sorry. I’m just not really feeling it. Like, it’s been a shit day and I’m tired and I’ve got cake batter and cocoa powder in places where both things ought to never be, so I’m not exactly feeling very sexy either. I know it was my idea and we’ve only like barely gotten started, but do you think maybe we could just skip today? Like… we can shag twice tomorrow or something, I don’t know. Right now I just kinda want to cuddle you more than anything.” The suggestion instantly made Harry feel guilty, but, after all, as they’d agreed on the first day, it wasn’t like they _really_ needed it, right? It wasn’t like their marriage was on the rocks or anything, they were just busy - current predicament case in point. Surely Louis would understand… right?

“Of course,” Louis replied, his hand coming up to cup Harry’s cheek, his thumb stroking along it gently. “Whatever you need, love. But for the record, I find the idea of you covered in cake batter and cocoa powder to be surprisingly arousing.”

The wry confession startled an unexpected snort out of Harry, and he bent down again to bury his head in the crook between Louis’ shoulder and neck as he laughed quietly; intimately.

“Don’t know why I’m surprised. Really, Lou?” Harry teased him, placing a kiss on Louis’ neck as Louis’ arms embraced him and pulled him closer.

“Although, if I remember correctly,” Harry murmured, the thought coming to him suddenly, ”Food always was a bit of a favourite playmate of yours back during our uni days.”

“Ah,” Louis reminisced fondly, “I did lick my fair share of cake batter and whipped cream off of you back then, didn’t I? I’d almost forgotten, it’s been so long.”

Harry remembered it too – quite fondly, in fact. Louis wasn’t the only one out of the two of them who’d enjoyed a bit of foodplay back then. Despite being only four days into this experiment of theirs, Harry was now continuously reminded of how many great aspects of their sex life they’d let slip from their grasps, and how much they’d been neglecting one another intimately. It was just as much scary as it was exhilarating to rediscover it all.

Suddenly Harry didn’t feel nearly as knackered anymore, and definitely much more up to the thought of channelling the Harry-and-Louis of second year university.

Turning his head slightly, Harry came face to face with Louis, their faces closer than would be comfortable to him with anyone who wasn’t Louis or his children. Louis’ lips were so close to Harry’s that he could feel Louis’ breath ghost against his own, a phantom whisper of touch.

“Lou,” breathed Harry, closing his eyes. There was nowhere in the world where he felt safer than in Louis’ arms, particularly not when they stood this close.

As if drawn together by magnets, their lips sought out each other simultaneously; connecting them in a kiss that made the one Louis greeted him with look utterly tame in comparison. The slow, wet drag of Louis’ tongue against his own was everything Harry had needed all day without knowing. When he thought back, it was almost impossible to comprehend how they’d gone so without this. Without the intimacy and the physical contact that set fire to every nerve end in Harry’s body. He couldn’t believe that just mere moments ago, he’d been willing to go to bed without getting his daily fix of this. It was only the fourth day, but still he found that he’d rapidly become addicted to having Louis with him like this every day. It seemed laughable that before three days ago, Harry couldn’t remember the last time they’d actually shagged.

What started out slow and sensual, soft wet drags of lips and tongue, quickly turned deeper, hotter, faster, far sloppier and decidedly more dirty; taking on a desperate, lustful edge. Harry’s hands moved downwards on their own accord (as they were wont to do when in proximity of Louis) and gripped Louis’ arse tightly, pulling him closer against Harry, their groins aligned in a way that only inspired heavier grinding. Louis’ hands in turn moved upwards to fist in Harry’s hair, gripping tight in the way Harry loved more than anything. That was probably the biggest plus of their many years together when it came to their activities in the bedroom; they may have been more adventurous and active back in their university days, or even just before their kids came along, but they both knew each other's bodies inside and out now in a way they hadn’t before. Their slowly-rekindling passion compounded with their comfortable knowledge and experience with each other’s bodies meant that when they did have sex, it was thousand times better than it had ever been in university. Nothing beat having sex with someone who knew your body and your likes and kinks inside out, Harry had found.

“Food!” gasped Louis, as he broke away from Harry, the need of air suddenly making itself known.

“What?” Harry asked into the skin of Louis jaw, where he started placing small kisses.

“We said we’d resurrect some of our former bedroom tricks, and I figure this – _ah_ – would be the perfect opportunity to rediscover our love of foodplay.”

“Mhhhmm,” Harry moaned into Louis’ neck. His husband was a genius. “Gods, yes please.”

Louis tilted his head to recapture Harry’s lips, kissing him once, twice, thrice before pulling back, holding Harry’s face between his hands. He smiled lopsidedly, a teasing glint in his eyes that made Harry’s stomach swoop.

“Ah, if only we had whipped cream,” laughed Louis as his eyes crinkled in the exact way Harry loved so dearly. “We could have relived the glory days in full then.”

He loved it even more that he got to kiss Louis on the mouth and murmur, “Got it.”

“What?” laughed Louis as his thumb ran down Harry’s cheek affectionately.

Harry shrugged slightly sheepish. “Well,” he said, “I might have bribed the kids with hot cocoa today, and there are leftovers in the fridge from that.”

Louis’ grin widened instantly. “Have I told you I love you today?” he asked, “You’re the best husband a bloke could have ever hoped to have!“

“That’s lucky for you then,” Harry grinned, “Because I do love you something dreadful as well.”

“No,” Louis shook his head, “Not dreadful at all. In fact, I find it to be rather delightful.”

Harry snickered, couldn’t possibly help it nor hold it in. “I love it when you channel Mark Darcy.”

“Well,” said Louis, “I do quite like you, as it happens. Just as you are.”

“Just as I am,” repeated Harry.

“Just as you are,” Louis confirmed. “Wouldn’t change a single thing. Not even the fact that you bribe our kids with hot cocoa and whipped cream, you sneak. In fact, I do think I love you all the more for it.”

“Well I think,” Harry said coyly, a teasing lilt to his tone, “That I’d love you quite a lot more, if you’d take off those clothes of yours.”

“Nah,” Louis shook his head, kissing Harry square on the mouth, leaving him slightly startled. “Tonight’s all about you, babe.”

Before Harry even had time to contemplate what _that_ meant, Louis had left his side and marched straight for the refrigerator. Harry watched as his husband took out the whipped cream leftovers and a bottle of potentially-past-the-expiration-date chocolate syrup. Fairly tame choices, given the last time they’d done this, Louis’ had eaten leftover pizza off of Harry after a particularly memorable trip to the local uni bar. Granted, that had probably been a compromise between Louis being hungry and Harry being horny. But, still.

“I think that might have spoiled,” Harry pointed out, gesturing to the syrup.

“Oh, really?” Louis questioned, placing the bowl of whipped cream on the counter besides the refrigerator. He opened the bottle of syrup and took a sniff, instantly scrunching up his nose. “’Think you’re right. Drats, cream it is, then.”

“Cream will do,” smiled Harry, holding his hands out for Louis, beckoning him back.

“It will, won’t it?” asked Louis rhetorically, taking one of the proffered hands, the whipped cream in his other, and pulling Harry towards him until they stood close once more;  face to face. Louis leant down to kiss him, tongue meeting Harry’s. Harry felt Louis’ fingers against his chest, as his husband began unbuttoning the buttons of his worn flannel shirt.

“We should—“ gasped Harry, pulling back slightly, “Bedroom—“ he tried saying, but goodness, enunciating and remembering his vast English vocabulary was quite the task when Louis’ skilled mouth had moved to suck gently at his neck, nipping at the exact spot that Harry had always loved the most. “Babe, oh fuck, we should—love, we should really move this to the bedroom.”

“No,” Louis murmured, voice deep with want, into Harry’s throat. “Not the bedroom. We’ll be plenty in the bedroom over the next twenty-six days.”

“W-well,” stuttered Harry with a nervous laugh, “I do think we’re like c-contractually obligated as parents to only do it in the bedroom when the — _ah_ — kids are home, or something. Don’t wanna scar them for life or anything.”

“Nope,” said Louis pulling off of Harry’s neck completely. “Not buying it. I am gonna lay you right down on this floor. We’re gonna shag right here while your cupcakes are baking in the oven. I’m gonna lick whipped cream off of your naked skin in this very kitchen. And you’re gonna like it.”

“But the kids…“ Harry protested half-heartedly, his heart pounding in his ribs.

“The kids are asleep,” Louis reminded him with another chaste kiss to his lips. “I have full confidence in your abilities in getting them to sleep. And I think we should both agree that that will be the last we talk of our children for the rest of the night – sound fair?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to cup Louis’ face. “Very fair,” he confirmed with a smile and yet another kiss. He never seemed to be capable of getting enough of Louis, and, honestly, he loved it. It always made him feel like the idea of forever wasn’t such an abstract concept – at least not for them.

“Good,” murmured Louis, unbuttoning the last of the  buttons on Harry’s shirt and sliding it off his shoulders, leaving his chest bare. “Now, I’m gonna make you feel so good, darling, that it’s gonna turn you entire day upside down.”

And, _boy_ , would Harry later know how accurate that prediction turned out to be.

With the bowl of whipped cream still in one hand, Louis kissed the corner of Harry’s mouth before moving down his jaw to his neck, paying special attention to Harry’s sensitive spot. Louis had been the one who had found it originally, and Harry thought that it was something quite special that Louis was the only one who had ever or would ever get to touch it. In a way that made it his ‘Louis’ spot, and Harry quite loved that idea.

Harry gasped when Louis bit down into his collarbone, his sharp teeth pressing against Harry’s skin, shooting pleasure straight to Harry’s groin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his cock straining against the denim of his jeans.

“Hmm,” Louis hummed in apparent agreement. “Soon enough, babes. Pay attention though, you’re spacing out on me. Don’t think I’ve gotten that much worse since uni, have I?”

“No,” moaned Harry as Louis’ free hand moved to cup Harry’s dick through his jeans, “Goodness, no, you really haven’t. I’m just spacing out over how much I love you and how much I love how well you know my body and what I need.”

“Good answer,” grinned Louis, sinking to his knees with no warning. The very image of him kneeling in front of Harry was enough to send his heart pounding even more fiercely than it already was. It wasn’t that it was an unfamiliar sight, but, lord, was it a beloved one. Any sight of Louis, really, the position or activity involved inconsequential, was a beloved one.

Harry’s hand automatically moved to fist in Louis’ hair as Louis started fumbling with the button and zipper of Harry’s jeans, grazing his dick in what seemed to be an almost purposeful manner. Harry definitely wouldn’t put it past him whatsoever.

“God, Lou,” moaned Harry as Louis managed to – in quite the smooth manoeuvre, mind – to slide down both Harry’s jeans and pants at once, making his cock spring free almost comically, hard and erect as only Louis deserved.

“Hey there,” Louis murmured with a smug grin, “Someone’s happy to see me, it seems.”

“God, Lou,” Harry repeated, this time with an exasperated laugh. “You’re awful.”

“-ly handsome, clever, and the best blow-job giver you’ve ever known,” Louis grinned up at him, his smile and general happiness so infectious that it made Harry’s heart soar in a way he had only ever really felt with Louis. If he got to end every shitty day like this, he didn’t think that he could ever feel properly sad again.

“Modest, too,” replied Harry with a fond smile, his thumb grazing over Louis’ cheek. “My lovely, modest husband who gives the best blowjobs I’ve ever received. The best everything, really.”

“I better,” murmured Louis teasingly, before, in an unexpected move, smearing a large dollop of ice-cold whipped cream onto Harry’s cock.

“Oh,” gasped Harry, arousal spiking through his belly.

Louis grinned up at him, his eyes glinting mischievously, giving away just how much he was enjoying this. Harry had always loved how much the both of them enjoyed both giving and receiving in equal parts – both with blowjobs, shagging, rimming, and everything in between – it meant that he never had to feel guilty, as he sometimes had with some of his previous boyfriends when they went down on him, because he knew that Louis was enjoying pleasuring Harry just as much as Harry was enjoying him doing it – or would have enjoyed it had it been the other way around.

When Louis’ tongue first touched the skin of Harry’s cock through the layer of cream, Harry couldn’t be entirely sure that he hadn’t died and gone to heaven. There was something about the mixture of the cool smoothness of the cream combined with the warm texture of Louis’ tongue that was entirely mind-blowing. With lick after lick, Louis had Harry, quite literally, quivering above him to the point where Harry started doubting how much longer he could stay standing on his own two feet.

Louis’ lips wrapped completely around the head of Harry’s dick, causing him to throw his head back as he moaned louder than he felt he really had any right to given that their children were asleep upstairs and all.

“God,” Harry gasped, “I’m not gonna be able to cook in here for like a week without getting hard if you keep this up.” He almost let out of a laugh, opened his mouth and everything, but instead huffed out another breathy, drawn out moan as Louis took more of Harry’s dick into his mouth and started to bob his head up and down, the warm wetness of his mouth like heaven.

“Yum,” said Louis, as he popped off for air and to reapply the cream to Harry’s dick, “My favourite snack.”

Harry snorted out an incredulous laugh and cradled the side of Louis’ face gently. “I love you,” he said, feeling right then that he couldn’t possibly hold the words in any longer. He absolutely loved how unhurried the blow job was, how they didn’t have to be all wanton moans and frenzied actions, how it could be just as good when it was silly and slow and dumb. Spending just this short time with Louis was enough for Harry to literally feel every piece of him that had been ripped to shreds during the day slip back together, as though Louis’ very physical presence had healing powers. That, thought Harry, must be what true love was all about.

“You too,” said Louis with a soft smile, his _Harry_ smile, the one Harry had never – not even once – seen him give anyone else. Louis kissed Harry’s hip gently, and then, with a silly smirk, his dick. When he pulled back and looked up at Harry, it was with mirth in his eyes, and Harry instantly knew why. Around his lips was a healthy coat of bright white whipped cream, giving off the impression of an oddly placed beard. Harry snickered, wiping at it with his thumb and collecting the part from Louis’ top lip. Harry grinned then and brought it to his own lips, licking off the cream as seductively as possible.

This time it was Louis’ turn to laugh, burying his head in Harry’s crotch, his lips pressed against the base of Harry’s dick which (perhaps surprisingly) hadn’t softened in the slightest. Probably due to Louis’ proximity to it. Harry didn’t think it was actually possible for him to become soft again with Louis so close to his cock no matter how silly they were acting. Something else that was silly, though, was the stripe of whipped cream along Louis’ cheek once he pulled back to look at Harry.

Harry chose then to sink to his knees as well, putting himself on level with Louis. He thumbed away the whipped cream again, this time holding his finger against Louis’ lips and letting his husband lick it off. Louis sucked Harry’s finger into his mouth, a move which Harry felt tug at his nerve ends all the way down to his crotch.

He grinned, and leaned in to kiss Louis hard, square on the mouth.

“We were better at this in uni,” said Harry, kissing the corner of his husband’s mouth once more.

“Sadly, yes,” agreed Louis, “Seems I’ve lost my touch.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced down pointedly at the way his own dick stood hard and proud straight into the air. He met Louis’ eyes with a raised brow.

“Or perhaps not,” Louis amended in amusement, smug smirk gracing his lips. He moved his arms to rest over Harry’s shoulders in an embrace. They must have looked quite ridiculous like this, should anyone have stumbled upon them, but, really, in many ways Harry thought it was just another proof of how right they were for each other when they could be together so comfortably in situations like the one they were in; Harry, stark naked apart from his socks, with his dick hard and half covered in whipped cream, while Louis leaned against him still fully clothed. They weren’t going much further with the blowjob, Harry was sure, but he couldn’t exactly say that he minded very much. To be entirely honest, he kind of wanted Louis to just fuck him now, so it was really quite okay with him for things to be sped along.

“Okay, up. Two things,” said Harry, putting on his bossy tone and pushing Louis off him, “One: off with your clothes as well Mister, and two: we’re done with the blowjob, I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

“Demanding,” Louis mused as he started to unbutton his crisply ironed work shirt. He always looked so sharp these days , in his baby blue button ups and pressed trousers, a far cry from the band t-shirts and vests of his younger years. He was a proper lawyer now, one who ironed his shirts and went to court and said things like ‘Objection, your honour’ (or so Harry assumed, at least), and was soon to be made partner of the firm, Harry was sure of it.

Everyday Harry was every bit as proud over what Louis had accomplished, as he knew Louis had been of him on the day Harry had released his book. It was an honour being by his side, Harry thought, being able to give him that other side of things that balanced Louis’ life out, being able to give him something to come home to. He had never, he thought, been quite as grateful for anything as he was for meeting Louis, for the fact that Louis fell in love with him too, because otherwise he would have never been where he was now, would never have had the kids or the book he called his.

Once Louis had stripped down to nothing, revealing his own cock (every bit as pleased to be in the presence of Harry as Harry was to be in the presence of it), Harry somehow managed to maneuver himself into a position lying on the floor with Louis looming over him.

“Have I told you lately what a good idea this challenge was?” Louis asked him with a grin, grinding their cocks against each other with small circles, the whipped cream still left on Harry’s serving as a kind of lube substitute.

“Not today, no,” Harry grinned, feeling too that it was one of his more genius moves. “But I do concur.”

Louis let out a small laugh and bent his head down to kiss Harry’s lips. “You concur, huh?” he asked, “Take lawyer to me, babe.”

“Um,” said Harry, before spewing out words at random, teasingly, “Objection, custody, paragraph 287, um… sustained, control you client, Mr. Tomlinson—“

“Stop,” said Louis, laughing. “God, we’re awful at this sex thing.”

“Hmm,” replied Harry, thrusting upwards and eliciting a moan from the both of them. “I disagree, I’d say we’re doing rather well.”

“We’re being silly,” countered Louis.

Quieting, Harry gave a shrug. “I like silly us,” he said. “I like that even in bed – or, well, on the kitchen floor – we can be silly and have fun. I love that about us.”

“Me too,” Louis reassured him gently before Harry could even really start worrying about Louis not agreeing. “I love everything about us. I love _you_.”

Harry smiled up at him, loving the feel of Louis’ weight on top of him. “We’re being quite sickening tonight, aren’t we?”

“It’s been a tough day,” said Louis, “I think we deserve some affection. Telling you I love you still gives me flutters in my stomach no matter how many times a day I say it.”

Something warm squeezed around Harry’s heart at Louis words, and he knew exactly what Louis meant, felt it every time himself as well.

“Me too,” he said, “And I love you, too.”

“Good to know,” Louis grinned, “I was starting to doubt it a little, to be honest.”

“Twat,” said Harry, whacking Louis on the shoulder. “Now are you gonna do anything about this or not?” he asked, looking pointedly down at the alignment of their crotches. “I’d quite like for you to fuck me, please.”

“Well,” drawled Louis sarcastically, “Since you said _please_.”

“You’re such a prat,” said Harry.

“Sorry, Mr. Styles-Tomlinson,” laughed Louis as he pulled back onto his knees much to Harry’s annoyance. “I’d very much like to accept your courteous offer of having coitus with you, thank you.” He stood the rest of the way up then, looming over Harry like a Greek god chiselled out of the greatest marble known to man.

“Where are you going, you wanker?” Harry asked, frowning slightly up at his idiot of a husband.

“Oh, such love,” said Louis, ignoring him, “Such affection, such adoring pet names.”

“ _Lou_ ,” protested Harry indignantly.

“Sorry, babe,” laughed Louis, “I’m just getting some lube. Don’t worry, love, I’ll be right back.”

“Alright then,” grumbled Harry in mock annoyance. “But do hurry back!” He called the last bit after Louis’ retreating back, and received no reply but his husband’s low chuckle.

“Close your eyes,” Louis said when he returned moments later.

“What?” Harry asked, scrunching up his face in confusion.

Louis grinned mischievously. “Close your eyes,” he repeated, “I’m gonna paint you like one of my French girls.”

“Lou,” Harry laughed in response before doing as his husband asked. “Just out of curiosity; how many French girls do you have?”

“Oh,” said Louis, “Only about a dozen or so.”

“Ah,” replied Harry, “That about corresponds with the amount of Italian gents I have, so we’re all good there.”

Louis snorted at that but didn’t comment further. Rather, the next thing Harry felt was something cold land on his right nipple. He quite felt like that might be Louis’ way of getting revenge over his former comment, but considering his current predicament, he couldn’t exactly say he minded much. He felt a similar coldness land against his left nipple, and then two streaks going down on each side of his chest. The cold cream made his nipples harden and goose bumps erupt on his skin; his cock painfully hard, as it screamed for release. Then he felt another, more sticky, substance make contact with the skin just below his navel and run all the way down along his happy trail to his cock. He only just kept himself from opening his eyes out of sheer curiosity as to what Louis had smeared on him. He was distracted quickly, however, because the next thing he knew there was a finger held against his mouth, the same sticky substance from before coating it.

He opened his mouth and sucked in Louis’ finger; the taste buds on his tongue instantly recognising the explosion of chocolate taste from the batter he’d made only an hour or so ago. Louis must have taken the leftovers from the mixing bowl in the fridge, and, well, Harry couldn’t exactly say that he minded much. He licked Louis’ finger clean, and once Louis’ finger had left his mouth, it was immediately replaced by Louis’ lips. Kissing Louis still felt every bit as exhilarating as the very first time they’d done it, and Harry couldn’t imagine that ever changing.

“Oh,” he gasped a moment later when Louis drew back from their kiss. The breath rushed out of his lungs like he’d been suckerpunched as Harry suddenly felt Louis’ lubed up finger press against his hole just as Louis’ mouth also closed around Harry’s cream-covered nipple.

He briefly wondered over the absolutely astounding and impressive level of coordination Louis was currently exhibiting by both being able to concentrate on sucking, licking, and biting on Harry’s nipple at the same time as he opened him up slowly with his finger. But, well, Louis had never been anything less than impressive in every aspect of what he did. Harry quickly lost that train of thought, though, as he got caught up in what Louis was doing to him and the sensations that made Harry’s body wild with need and desire.

“Oh, oh, _god_ ,” he moaned and gasped as Louis added another finger and closed his mouth around Harry’s other nipple. It felt divine, having Louis’ sole attention focused on him like this; overwhelming and divine. Arousal curled in the bottom of his belly, precome already pearling at the tip of his cock. He would never, never ever, get enough of Louis, of that he was sure.

When Louis started moving downwards, following the trail of whipped cream down towards Harry’s navel, he added a third finger, stretching Harry open well and good. It felt amazing having Louis’ fingers move inside of him, the lube making the slide smooth as Harry’s body opened up for Louis like it had done countless of times before. There was no other experience like this, nothing that could ever compare. They ought to bottle up this feeling and sell it at top price, because, honestly, it was better than any drug that could possibly ever have been produced, Harry was certain. Nothing could compare to Louis.

Louis reached his happy trail and continued to move his three fingers inside of Harry, licking at the cake batter as he made his way towards Harry’s cock where the trail ended. Harry’s eyes were still closed, his head thrown back and his toes curled in on themselves in utter pleasure. Louis’ mouth once more closed around Harry’s cock, warm and vice tight, just as his fingers brushed Harry’s prostate, pressing against it firmly. Harry’s hips snapped up uncontrollably at the sharp jolt of pleasure. A cloud of ecstasy exploding in his stomach.

“Lou,” he gasped, as his hands grappled blindly for something of Louis to grab onto. His hands found Louis’ shoulders and gripped them tightly as Louis made another well-aimed jab with his fingers, making Harry arch his back and moan wantonly.

“Stop, stop,” gasped Harry desperately, “I can’t—Lou, babe, fuck me, please. God, I--”

_beep beep beep – beep beep beep – beep beep beep – beep beep beep…_

The obnoxious sound of their oven timer went off, making them both freeze up and look at each other wide-eyed.

Louis snorted before burying his face in Harry’s shoulder as he let out a proper laugh. Harry giggled a bit too, turning his head to kiss Louis’ temple before gently pushing him off of him.

“Get this one ready to fuck me,” said Harry, reaching down to wrap his hand around Louis’ cock to squeeze it, startling a moan out of Louis. Then Harry let go, climbed to his feet and hurried towards the oven to turn the timer off and take out the cupcakes.

“Hey,” said Louis, sounding slightly affronted. “Dirty move, Styles.” But Harry could hear the sound of the lube cap being cracked open, so he figured Louis couldn’t be too bummed about the turn of events.

Harry opened up the oven, pulling out the two trays of cupcakes, equal parts relief and exhilaration washing over him as he took in the pristine looking baked goods on the trays. He felt slightly ridiculous then, standing in front of his oven naked as the day he was born; not just naked but hard and horny to boot. This whole scene felt eerily similar to the one they’d lived through only days prior, but Harry could hardly say he minded the fact that the whole ‘blowjob in the kitchen’ thing was becoming a regular deal. A flush made its way up to Harry’s cheeks as he felt a trickle of lube slide down his thigh from his hole. Charming.

When he really thought about it, this could have almost been a step back in time back to university had it not been for the two sleeping children upstairs. Though he had yet to be fucked, this had truly turned out to be the most perfect evening, Harry thought, and, somehow, exactly what he’d needed. Tonight had been silly, and fun, and free. And loving. Most of all it had been loving, and Harry considered himself blessed that he was continuously reminded everyday of how much he still loved Louis and Louis him, that each day they actually were able to fall a little more in love with each other. God, with all those sappy thoughts floating around in his head, he really ought to have a go at chick lit for his next novel, he’d be aces at it.

“Coming back?” Louis called from behind him.

“Yeah,” said Harry, turning around towards Louis with a smile. “Are you ready to fuck me then?”

Once Harry laid his eyes on his husband laying the floor, he found that there was little doubt that Louis was, in fact, quite ready. Legs spread and unabashed, he looked up at Harry, his hand working over his lube-glistening cock.

“Could make love to you too, if you’d like,” said Louis with a lopsided smile. “However you want it babe. ‘S your night, didn’t I say?”

“You did,” replied Harry, walking the few steps closer until he was standing right in front of his husband, his dick nearly level with Louis’ face. His own hand had gone to his own cock, mirroring the way Louis was stroking himself. He could come like this, probably, definitely, just from looking at Louis. He always could.

“But I think what I want is to make this a bit about you too,” Harry continued.

Louis looked confusedly up Harry and Harry smirked, dropping to his knees as he straddled Louis’ hips.

“Hey there,” said Harry in a comically lewd voice, “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” said Louis, tenderly, his hand coming up to cup Harry’s hip.

Harry smiled and reached behind him to take a hold of Louis’ cock.

“Always,” he echoed, as he guided Louis’ length to his entrance and slowly started to sink down on it.

“Ah,” he gasped, burying his face in Louis’ shoulder, feeling slightly overwhelmed as Louis’ cock filled him, inch by inch. Somehow sex with Louis always had this odd quality of simultaneously feeling like the most familiar thing in the world and a whole new experience all at once. It was peculiar but also amazing, kind of like how every new adventure he’d ever embarked on with Louis had felt both scary and like the safest thing in world.

“Oh, Harry,” said Louis almost reverently, as Harry started to slowly circle his hips. “My beautiful boy.”

“Lou,” sighed Harry, resting his forehead against Louis’. He continued to move up and down, the muscles of his thighs straining, his own cock moving against the bottom of Louis’ belly with each jolt upwards, smearing pre-come all over his husband’s stomach. The slick sound of Louis’ lube covered dick inside Harry, accompanied by both of their heavy breathing and small gasps and moans echoed through the kitchen. It was slow, sensual sex, something they hadn’t always been particularly good at when they were younger when it was most often just fast, and desperate, and frantic. The fact that they’d already done it more it like this twice so far in this challenge was a testament to the fact that they’d grown up too. Harry supposed that some things had after all changed for the better regarding their sex life in the years between uni quickies and now (though he definitely wasn’t one to knock a well-timed quickie!).

“Kiss me,” breathed Louis as his fist closed around Harry’s cock, his thumb rolling over the head, collecting the leaking come.

Harry didn’t reply with words, but rather tilted his head until his mouth met Louis’ in a wet slide of tongues. He shifted his hips slightly on the next upstroke, which had the beautiful consequence of allowing Louis’ cock to brush against Harry’s prostate, making stars explode inside Harry’s eyelids, and forcing a wanton gasp from his lips right into Louis’ mouth. It was good, it was _so good_ ; far better than when Louis’ fingers had found the same place earlier.

“Lou,” he moaned against Louis’ lips, “Lou, _please_.”

“I’ve got you, love,” Louis said, kissing Harry’s cheek before releasing his cock with one final squeeze that confirmed what Harry already knew: that he was so, _so_ close. Louis grabbed tightly onto Harry’s hips, steadying them, before thrusting up hard.

Harry gasped, his entire body quivering as Louis continued his hard, meticulously aimed thrusts into him, expertly hitting his prostate straight on, like aiming true was an Olympic sport and he was on road to getting the gold medal.

“Lou, I’m—“ gasped Harry, hand desperately moving on its own accord to grab his cock, as though to either stop his orgasm from taking over or helping it along, he wasn’t quite sure which. “I’m gonna—“

“Yeah,” grunted Louis, deep and animalistic, as he aimed another thrust into Harry, his teeth biting into his lower lip in concentration and a small bead of sweat started forming at his temple. “Come, babe, come on me.”

“Lou,” moaned Harry again, as though it was the only thing he could possibly say, as though he’d lost his knowledge of every other word in his normally astounding vocabulary.

“Come for me,” Louis practically growled, as he thrust his hips upwards again and spilled inside of Harry with a guttural moan.

Harry didn’t need telling twice. The combination of Louis’ order, his cock against Harry’s prostate, and the feeling of Louis’ wet, hot come spilling inside him was more than Harry’s already fragile and overwhelmingly aroused state could take.

Strings of pearly white come spilled over his own hand and hit Louis’ chest in equal measures as his husband clutched him close. Harry buried  his head in Louis’ shoulder as he shook through his orgasm, feeling like he would liquefy and spill everywhere if it weren’t for Louis holding him together. Pleasure pulsed through him like electric waves, making him shiver as he squeezed tightly around Louis’ cock still inside him.

“God, Harry,” sighed Louis into his hair. “God, how do you do it? How are you always exactly what I need?”

“Magic,” murmured Harry into Louis’ skin, finally feeling like he was coming back to himself somewhat. He still felt dizzy and the fizzy, bubbly feeling in his chest, as though someone had filled his insides with sparkling soda, wasn’t going away anytime soon if history was to be trusted, but that was okay. He felt more relaxed and content than he had all day. And to think he had wanted to skip this when it had been exactly what he needed – preposterous! Fortunately, Louis had once again known him better than Harry had known himself.

“My wizard,” murmured Louis with a kiss to Harry’s curls once more. “Are you able to lift your hips, love?” he said then, squeezing Harry’s hips, “Or will I have to Wingardium Leviosa you?”

Harry chuckled sleepily as he lifted his hips up just enough for Louis’ softened dick to slide out of him, wincing slightly from the odd, uncomfortable sensation. Shuffling forwards Louis laid down on his back, pulling Harry along with him until the two of them were lying cuddled up on the kitchen floor.

They were quiet for several moments, both of them content to just revel in the naked closeness, the feeling of absolute intimacy and trust.

“We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, don’t you reckon?” asked Harry into Louis’ collarbone.

“Well,” said Louis, “That’s certainly what I’m planning on.”

“Good,” murmured Harry almost inaudibly as he yawned, “Me too. Not gonna let anything get between us.”

“No, honey,” said Louis softly, running his hand down Harry’s bare back. “No, I’m not gonna let anything get between us.”

“Good,” repeated Harry, shifting around a little to get more comfortable, feeling how the sticky residue of drying sweat and come was making him stick slightly to Louis’ chest. Sticking to Louis, ha, he liked the sound of that.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Louis chided gently, “We gotta get up to bed before you can do that. Could you imagine if Izzy were to find us like this? We’d scar the poor girl for life.”

“Good point,” said Harry sleepily, “And they probably wouldn’t ever let us get another.” A few moments of silence passed then, and perhaps if Harry had been more lucid, he’d have noticed.

“No,” said Louis then, “No, they probably wouldn’t. That—“ he hesitated, ”That wouldn’t be good, right?”

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head as well as he could with it lying against Louis’ chest. “Not good at all.”

“Good,” said Louis then, holding Harry closer and kissing the top of his head. “God, you’re like the biggest cuddlebear around here.”

“Cuddlebear?” questioned Harry with a tired laugh.

“Izzy’s words not mine,” Louis defended himself. “Take it up with the princess herself if you’re not happy with your title.”

“I like it,” Harry grinned, “I like it very much, Mr. Snugglebear.”

Louis groaned but didn’t comment further, perhaps sensing that it would be a lost cause. Regardless of the reason, Harry was quite looking forward to including Isabelle in this newly discovered pet name for Louis. He had a feeling she would be taken with it instantly.

“Hey,” said Louis suddenly, breaking into Harry’s thoughts. “Do you think it’s gonna get old?”

“What’s gonna get old?” Harry questioned confused as he lifted his head to look Louis in the eyes.

“This whole sex thing?” Louis elaborated, “Like having sex every day for thirty days. Do you think we’re gonna tire of it or become bored at some point? Do you think that it might, like, I don’t know, sort of loose its appeal?”

Harry snorted, raising his eyebrows at Louis incredulously. He ran a finger through some of the come cooling on Louis’ stomach, bringing it to his lips and licking it off seductively before saying with amusement,“I don’t know. Do _you_?”

Louis groaned and shook his head with closed eyes. “Alright, alright,” he said, “Stupid question, I get it.”

Harry laughed brightly, leaning down to kiss Louis chastely on the lips.

“I think,” Harry said,after a moment, “That maybe it’s going to be hard some days to find the time and maybe it’s going to get frustrating sometimes like today when all we want to do is go to sleep, but I also think it’s gonna end up being so, so worth it. Just this hour tonight with you like this – even if it was on our cold kitchen floor – honestly saved my entire day.”

“Mine too, baby,” Louis assured him. “Time with you is the silver lining to any shitty day.”

“Aaawww,” teased Harry, “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, you sap.”

“Shut up,” said Louis then mock-grumpily, “And get up. We better get cleaned up and in bed if we’re gonna make it through tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, slowly getting to his feet and taking Louis’ hands to help pull him up. When they were both of their feet, Harry leaned down to kiss Louis gently once more, a sort of symbolic dot at the end of the sentence that was the fourth day of this little challenge of theirs.

“For the record,” he said, once they both pulled apart, “You’re my silver lining too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the bottom. If you in anyway have the time, I'd really appreciate a bit of feedback! x


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